Watching the Gathering Storm
by Vicroc4
Summary: AU. There is a legend of a great Pokémon that can control even the most severe of weather. When information about this Pokémon falls into the hands of a terrorist, it's up to three regular kids to stop his plot.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Pokémon is Copyright 1995-2004 Nintendo, Creatures, Inc., Game Freak, et. al. In other words, Pokémon is NOT copyrighted to me.

- - - - - -

Note from the Author: One thing people are bound to complain about with this fanfic is the fact that it is set in the quote-unquote "real" world. I strive for some modicum of realism in my stories, even in an obviously fantastic setting. In this particular story, it manifests as being set in actual, recognizable locations. I find it interesting to try to see how Pokémon would interact with a more realistic world than that set forth in the games. If this offends some people, then I must apologize.

Text in _italics_ signifies thoughts and/or telepathic speech.

- - - - - -

**Part One:**

As the skies darkened over Annapolis, Maryland, a figure stood watching, his face hidden by the shadow of dusk. Thunder crashed in the distance, and the roiling clouds on the horizon indicated a storm brewing. The figure took all this in, seeming to nod to himself as the thunderstorm swept down from the mountains inland, heading towards the Chesapeake Bay.

"Soon," he said, his voice deep and cruel, "Soon I will have the key. And soon, I will hold this city, this state, this country in my grasp! The power of nature is one mankind cannot equal, and soon I will control that power." He turned suddenly, his face, gaunt and malevolent, coming out of the shadow. His glaring, grey eyes searched the room attached to the balcony he was standing on, darting back and forth until he found what he was looking for.

Sneering, he yelled into the room, "Espeon! Come over here!"

The small, purple-furred, catlike creature slowly walked over, the split tip of its tail twitching in annoyance. Its large, peaked ears flicked this way and that, searching for a sound that could indicate some distraction so it wouldn't have to face its master. Unfortunately, it didn't hear anything, although the whistle of the wind indicated that they probably shouldn't stay outside for much longer than absolutely necessary.

It sat in front of its master, looking up with its deep, black eyes. _Yes, Master Townshend? What can I do for you?_

Townshend glared down at the Psychic-type Pokemon. Seeing as he was usually glaring, this didn't frighten it at all. However, there was something in Townshend's demeanor at the moment that made alarm bells go off in Espeon's head.

The Pokemon's master nodded slightly, and said, "Yes, Espeon, there is something you can do for me. Tell me why your searchers haven't found the slightest clue as to the whereabouts or even identity of the Thunderstorm Pokemon. You know very well that this plan will not come together until I find and capture it!"

The Espeon cringed, having known that Townshend would eventually ask that question. It had been hoping to have an answer ready when he did, but it didn't. Its constant searches and communications, and those of its companions, had turned up nothing, even when it had consulted with the Legendaries themselves.

It lowered its head, closing its eyes in shame. Perhaps, it thought, especially when it had consulted with the Legendaries. They had seemingly known of its purpose, and had been most unhelpful at providing any clue as to the name or whereabouts of the fabled Thunderstorm Pokemon, a Pokemon which, it was said, could control the weather to the point of being able to create a hurricane over land!

Townshend looked the creature over, his eyes narrowing as it seemingly refused to respond. He grit his teeth before snarling, "You dare defy me! You are but a servant! Do I need remind you of what I could do to you?"

Before Townshend could continue, the Espeon spoke up, its telepathic voice harshly controlled. _I must apologize, Master Townshend. I could not find anything about the Pokemon you seek. The only ones that I can think of that would know anything about it are the Legendaries, but they will not tell me anything._

Gritting his teeth again, Townshend's glare tightened for a moment before he realized that the Espeon spoke the truth. He knew that the Legendaries would not willingly divulge any information that could disrupt the so-called "balance" of the world. He nodded at the Psychic-type, saying, "I understand. We must be more persuasive if we are to find this Thunderstorm Pokemon. Go, call your team together and tell them that they need to find a way to sneak past the Legendaries' defenses. It is now more imperative than ever to find this Pokemon!"

The Espeon nodded, and then turned to walk back inside, grateful that it did not have to be anywhere near Townshend for a while. It slunk back into the room and looked around for a moment, getting its bearings before suddenly vanishing in a flash, having used the Teleport move to get where it needed to go.

Townshend watched this, smiling a cruel, thin smile when the Espeon had gone. He then turned back to the storm, his smile getting crueler as he watched the lightning flash in the clouds. "Soon," he said, "Soon."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Pokémon is Copyright 1995-2004 Nintendo, Creatures, Inc., Game Freak, et. al. In other words, Pokémon is NOT copyrighted to me.

- - - - - -

Note from the Author: One thing people are bound to complain about with this fanfic is the fact that it is set in the quote-unquote "real" world. I strive for some modicum of realism in my stories, even in an obviously fantastic setting. In this particular story, it manifests as being set in actual, recognizable locations. I find it interesting to try to see how Pokémon would interact with a more realistic world than that set forth in the games. If this offends some people, then I must apologize.

Text in _italics_ signifies thoughts and/or telepathic speech.

- - - - - -

Part Two:

Meanwhile, in a small backyard, in a development in suburban Maryland, a Pidgey and a Poochyena were facing off. This was a trainer battle, and the Pokemon's trainers were currently in a stare-down. It seemed almost as though neither trainer wanted to be the first to give the order to start the fight.

The Pidgey's trainer, a tall, slender girl of about fifteen, seemed to be almost afraid of her Pokemon, as if it were too powerful for her, and she also seemed to not want to unleash that against the Poochyena opposing her. The other trainer, a stocky, solid young man of eighteen or thereabouts, seemed fairly confident in himself and his Pokemon, but he wanted to see what his opponent would do before he said anything. Their Pokemon were standing obediently where they had landed when their Pokeballs opened, right in front of their trainers. They were waiting for directions, having been with their trainers for some time now and having learned that their trainers usually knew what they were doing.

The third human in the yard, a tall, lanky man of about twenty-two, seemed to be getting impatient. Ever since the two others had decided to fight, he'd been lounging on a lawn chair off to one side of their makeshift arena. Now he was shifting slightly in his chair, watching the two stare each other down.

Finally, the third person had had enough. Squinting into the sun at the Poochyena's trainer, he said, "Aw, c'mon, Jack! Are you just gonna stare at her all day? She ain't even that pretty, y'know."

This earned him a glare from the Pidgey's trainer, who shot back, "Well, Ryan, you aren't that great-looking either!"

Ryan squinted at her, too, and said, "Kath, you oughta' know better by now than to say that. After all, I'm the coolest guy I know." He smirked at this last part.

Jack, the Poochyena's trainer, was now trying to keep from cracking up laughing as he listened to this exchange. His Pokemon looked at him, tilting its black-and-grey head in an expression of confusion. Jack noticed this and bent down to rub behind one of the Dark-type Pokemon's ears. He also said, in a low voice, "Don't worry about them, Scruff. This is the first time they've seen each other since Kathleen was nine, and I was expecting them to do this."

Scruff looked up at his trainer again, somewhat reassured but still greatly confused by the whole exchange. Glancing over at the Pidgey, he noticed that it, too seemed confused, and more than a little anxious about its trainer's arguing. An idea slowly formed in the little Dark-type's mind.

Letting out a yip that surprised everyone, Scruff jumped at the Pidgey and tackled it, knocking it head-over-heels into the trunk of a small tree. The little tan and brown bird righted itself, looking indignantly at the Poochyena, who now was wearing a classic doggy grin. This only served to anger the Pidgey, who let out a chirp before thoroughly dusting the Dark-type with a Sand-Attack.

Jack was the first to respond to the little brawl that was developing, calling out to his Pokemon to back off. The little Bite Pokemon jumped at the call, narrowly avoiding a Quick Attack from the Pidgey, who went barreling into another tree trunk. After checking to make sure that the enraged Pidgey wasn't going to launch another attack after having knocked itself silly on the tree, Scruff bounded over and sat down in front of his trainer.

Glaring at the Dark-type, Jack said, "That wasn't very fair, Scruff. I thought you knew better than that. You're supposed to wait until I give you the call before you attack. And besides..." Scruff just sat there through Jack's lecture with an innocent "who, me?" sort of expression on his face.

Meanwhile, as Jack was yelling at his Pokemon, Kathleen was trying to calm her own down. After crashing into two trees and having one of its attacks miss, causing the second crash, the little Flying-type was absolutely furious. Its enraged chattering had scared all of the other birds in the neighborhood into silence, and when Kathleen tried to pick it up, it snapped at her, its beak grazing her finger.

Sticking the cut finger in her mouth, Kathleen decided that she was going to have to try something else. She looked at the Pidgey for a moment before she thought of something. Untying her sweater from around her waist, she spread it out to use as a net.

Two attempts and five scratches later, Kathleen managed to get the Pidgey thoroughly entangled in her sweater, almost to the point where it looked like Houdini himself couldn't escape from it. Picking up the bundle, she made a mental note never to attempt to fight Jack again. The little bird kicked futilely at the sweater, trying to free itself so it could get at that Poochyena, but the sweater was wrapped too tightly for it to escape.

Kathleen tried to calm it, whispering quietly, "It's okay, Syl. It's okay. I'm sure Scruff didn't mean any harm. He's still just a puppy. Calm down..."

In the meantime, Jack had returned Scruff to his Pokeball after informing the Poochyena that he would not be allowed out for at least twenty-four hours unless something happened where he would be needed. Jack looked up at Kathleen, noticing the little bundle in her arms, and said, "So, did you finally get Sylvia calmed down?"

Kathleen nodded and said, "Sort of. She's still mad at Scruff, and I'm guessing that it'll take awhile for that grudge to go away."

Ryan laughed at this, saying, "Like trainer, like Pokemon. You both hold a grudge for a ridiculous amount of time."

Both Jack and Kathleen glared at him for that remark. Jack wondered in the back of his mind where he'd met such an imbecile, much less become friends with him. He supposed that it was the fact that Ryan's parents had been so close to his own that kind of forced them into an uneasy friendship.

They decided that it was time to go inside after they saw the sky turning orange to the west. The sunset was partially obscured by the dark clouds of a thunderstorm brewing in the distance, and they could hear the thunder already starting to rumble. So, engaged in a friendly argument, they headed inside, completely oblivious to what was happening elsewhere.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Pokémon is Copyright 1995-2004 Nintendo, Creatures, Inc., Game Freak, et. al. In other words, Pokémon is NOT copyrighted to me.

- - - - - -

Note from the Author: One thing people are bound to complain about with this fanfic is the fact that it is set in the quote-unquote "real" world. I strive for some modicum of realism in my stories, even in an obviously fantastic setting. In this particular story, it manifests as being set in actual, recognizable locations. I find it interesting to try to see how Pokémon would interact with a more realistic world than that set forth in the games. If this offends some people, then I must apologize.

Text in _italics_ signifies thoughts and/or telepathic speech.

- - - - - -

**Part Three:**

Townshend frowned, watching the overcast skies. It had been three days since his 'discussion' with Espeon, and he hadn't heard a word from it since. He supposed that it had gone to speak with the Legendaries again, since that was the only reliable source they knew of. If Espeon could not succeed in deceiving the Legendaries this time, then they would have to look for other sources.

His frown grew deeper as he thought of where he found the first mention of the Thunderstorm Pokemon. The Internet was a vast resource, he knew, but it had its flaws. One was that its information could not always be taken for granted. It was possible that the Pokemon he sought did not, and had never, even existed. Finding what little information he did have was pure chance. He had almost literally stumbled upon it, clicking on a wrong link while trying to find the weather for a city that he was surveying for one of his 'customers'.

But if the legend was, even in part, true, then his customer would be glad that he had been sidetracked. For he who controlled this Pokemon could potentially control the world. The legend he had read had said that the Pokemon was responsible for all of the severe weather in the world, things like thunderstorms, tornadoes, hurricanes and the like. While that was likely an exaggeration, it was equally as likely that this Pokemon did have some form of control over local weather conditions. That was something Townshend could work with.

There was a sudden, bright flash in the room behind him, and he turned to look. Standing there, panting slightly, was Espeon. He was accompanied by another of Townshend's Pokemon, an Umbreon. The little black fox also seemed tired, but it sat upright and looked at Townshend, awaiting his command.

Sneering, Townshend said, "So you are back. Did you find anything worthwhile? Or are the Legendaries still being stubborn about this?"

Espeon lowered his head, ears back. _They did not cooperate, Master Townshend. However, we did find another lead. One of the lesser Pokemon there told us that he had heard of a Legendary that, it was rumored, controlled the weather for most of the East Coast. Whether this Pokemon is the same as the one we seek, I do not know._

Townshend raised an eyebrow. Slightly surprised, he said, "This Legendary Pokemon was not at the council?"

Espeon nodded, looking back up at his master. _Our contact said that the Legendary was never at the council unless there was an emergency. Unfortunately, he did not remember much more about that Pokemon, not even a name. I have arranged to meet with him again in hopes that he will remember something further, but I cannot guarantee it._

This last comment brought a response from the Umbreon, who said something in the common tongue of Pokemon. Espeon responded in a similar fashion, seeming embarrassed by what the Umbreon had said. Townshend looked at Espeon, curious as to what could possibly cause the Umbreon, normally a very quiet Pokemon, to say something about the Pokemon they had met.

Espeon looked back up at his master, ears back in embarrassment. _Michelle was merely commenting on how unpleasant she found our contact. Perhaps it would be better if I went alone to our meeting. I doubt having anyone else there would help, anyhow._

Townshend smiled slightly, amused by this revelation and Espeon's embarrassment. Being one of Townshend's few Pokemon that could communicate directly with their master, Espeon was often called upon to act as a translator. This occasionally caused some discomfort on Espeon's part, and tonight was no different, apparently.

There was a moment's silence, during which the roll of thunder could be heard, indicating that another storm was brewing. Then Townshend turned back to the doorway, saying, "Go alone then. It is crucial that we find more on this Legendary, and the sooner the better. Return only when you have the name, but be swift. Our employer grows impatient, and the more impatient he becomes, the more impatient I become."

Glaring slightly at the back of Townshend's head, Espeon said, _Yes, Master Townshend. I will try to hurry, but these things cannot be rushed. Besides, I am certain that the search will go much faster when we know the Pokemon's name._

As the Eevee evolutions turned to leave, Townshend smiled cruelly at the storm brewing outside his window. Nodding, he said, "You will find a name, Espeon, and you will find more than that, or you needn't bother returning at all. This country will soon be groveling at our feet, regardless of whether or not this plan succeeds. You will be there, or you will not, it does not matter in the grand scheme of things. Your failure will just make it more difficult."

Abruptly, Townshend turned to look at the two Pokemon in the room. Sneering at them, he said, "Now go! Prepare for your meeting, and do not fail me! I do not view kindly those that do."

The flash from Espeon's Teleport nearly blinded Townshend, and he blinked for a moment, trying to clear his eyes. Then he turned back to the window, chastising himself for not remembering to turn away from Espeon when he teleported. Catching sight of the flashes of lightning outside his window, he smiled cruelly as his mind returned to his plans.


End file.
